The House on Elizabeth Street

We like to call her Elizabeth, that little darling of a house. And although she wasn’t ours to keep, she was ours to love into a home again. I’ll never forget the first time Mr. G led me through her dark doorway. Oh, how gloomy! I thought. It was really perhaps a little too disgusting to make even me sad, as most old homes yearning for care do.

And yet the creative mind and gentle hands of my husband coaxed something lovely out of that shabby old place.

Yes, this is indeed almost the exact same angle of the same house as the picture above it.

Old-timey character was maintained as gloomy prospects were reversed in a wash of light and paint.

That even the most disgusting corners can be polished to reveal a gem has become evident to me during the makeover of dear Elizabeth. I once covered my nose walking into this kitchen.

Not anymore.

The Master Suite would have been laughable if it wasn’t so sad. Without even the dignity of being a finished space the only gift it had to offer was room for creativity.

That gift was readily accepted by my Adam, and a beautiful master bath was added where none stood before.

This charming old clawfoot tub was salvaged from the only bathroom in the house and refurbished by my nifty sister-in-law.

A cold, gloomy basement is now nearly as bright as the upper floor, and one of it’s two newly finished bedrooms is home to the coziest little reading nook imaginable.

These pictures were not taken at the same angle, but they both accurately represent the before and after of Elizabeth’s living space. Once ugly wooden paneling seemed to strangle out any light provided by the two large windows. Now those same windows are finally given free reign to pour sunlight over the once starved room.